half-meant

The theological imagination driven by the Pinoy notions of the 'kapwa' can make it possible for the ideals of 'public theology' to emerge as an alternative to the more popular forms of politically/socially-engaged theology in the Ph today...

Public theology as it developed in time is not to be confused with 'Christianizing' the public square and prescribing 'Christian solutions' to the pressing issues of society.

The latter's triumphalist, at times, even domineering, disposition is the exact unhappy dilemma that gave rise to the development of 'public theology' as as an alternative discipline.

Within the more conservative circles of the evangelical community, the impulse to overcome is often driven by the feeling of being put in the defensive, e.g., Christian values being threatened and a rising anti-Christian social order taking over. The option is to take-up arms and win the 'culture wars.' My guess is that a heightened sensitivity to the multi-layered notions of the 'kapwa' can help address this fearful fundamentalist spirit.

But those taking the stance of public theologizing recognize that the Christian's role is to contribute to the discussions of public interest by way of enriching the exchange and not necessarily by winning the discourse.

The bottomline of this approach has more to do with working for the common good than merely insisting on the right and right-ness of the church. More so, public theology does not imagine itself operating in a war zone but in a surgery room where all hands are on deck to save a life.

There are just so many ways that the Pinoy notions of 'kapwa' can bring joy to such a space...

[To be continued...]

"In the end, how do we measure good theology or good contextualization?

Ultimately, the measure of contextualization requires determining whether or not faithful Christian disciples are being formed in particular cultures. But from a global church perspective, this requires more than just personal discipleship. Christians from the Majority World, especially in light of their postcolonial histories, are more inclined to emphasize the need for nation-building and becoming more responsible citizens.

True discipleship here implies more than mere faithfulness to one's devotional or church life, but also life that enhances human dignity, does acts of charity and brings economic improvement for a better future.

Such discipleship brings meaningful connections between biblical values and positive cultural values.

Local Christians have to build on what is already good in their culture as they press for lasting changes in their society. Christian faith thus inspires local believers to make their society more livable, just and humane by equipping local Christians to be good neighbors and redirecting cultural identity towards the fullness of God's reign in Christ."

The issue of religion's role in the political life of the nation once again surfaced with Prof. Antonio Contreras' response to a pronouncement made by Sen. Allan Peter Cayetano.

The former claimed that his decisions as a senator are grounded on three books: the Constitution, the rules of the Senate of the Philippines, and the Holy Bible. To which, the latter replied that such will be problematic since the Philippines has a 'separation of church and state' provision enshrined in the Constitution and therefore it must be a 'secular institution.'

On this issue, Sen Cayetano is theologically flawed as a Christlike disposition would have him give up power not cling to it. The context of this issue is the wide clamor for him to give up the Senate presidency and recognize that a new leadership has emerged in the legislature's upper chamber.

Prof Contreras, on the other hand, is putting forth a theoretically limited perspective as well. The view that the Philippines is a strictly secular stare is just one of the possible readings of the Constitutional provision on the "separation of church and state." 

Other readings would have it that while it prohibits the State from interfering in religious affairs, it does not restrict faith communities, Christian churches included, to be involved in public and political affairs guided by their religious convictions and its corresponding moral persuasions (cf, Raul Pangalanan, 'Religion and the Secular State: National Report for the Philippines' in International Center for Religion and Law). The Catholic Bishops Conference of the Philippines (CBCP) puts it this way,

"The separation of Church and State prohibits the State from interfering in Church matters, and prohibits the State from having a State religion. It does not imply a division between belief and public actions, between moral principles and political choices.  In fact, the freedom of religion upheld by our Constitution protects the right of believers and religious groups to practice their faith and act on their values in public life. The Constitution guarantees the right of each citizen to exercise his or her religion. Catholics who bring their moral convictions into public life do not threaten democracy or pluralism but rather enrich the nation and its political life. Every Catholic is both a faithful of the Church and a citizen of our beloved Philippines. The exercise of this faithful citizenship means that when they go to the polls to vote they should not leave God outside."

As for the Protestants, there has been a long tradition of prophetic engagement including direct political participation from its members: Sen. Jovito Salonga (UCCP), Sen. Neptali Gonzales (UCCP), and Pres. Fidel Ramos (Methodist). None of them set aside their Bibles in the conduct of their office. Contrary to "kalimutan ang Bibliya", they attributed to the Bible's moral framework what turned out to be exemplary political careers and models of the Christian faith applied to matters of governance. (See E. Miranda-Feliciano, Faith in the Corridors of Power: OMF Lit, 2010).

For the evangelicals, a similar stream will find footing in the growing push for public theology and political theology. A recent volume sanctioned by the Philippine Council of Evangelical Churches (PCEC) contains chapters that lament the apolitical stance of many evangelicals in the past (see 'Faith and Politics: Filipino Evangelical Insights in Political Theology,' Langham, 2025). What these clarion calls would amount to remain to be seen and whether the likes of Mayor Vico Sotto, Rep. Benny Abante (Baptist), former Sen. Manny Pacquiao, Sen. Allan Cayetano (Reformed), and allegedly Sen. Win Gatchalian approximate to the kinds of political engagement that is hoped for within the evangelical community. 

The Pentecostal movement will have its forray into the dynamics of church and state relations with a much more controversial examples as prominent church leaders themselves ended up holding political positions like Bishop Eddie Villanueva (now party list representative in Congress) and his son Joel Villanueva in the Senate. At the grassroots level, there were also significant cases of Pentecostal pastors winning seats as mayors, councilors, baranggay chairman. All as an outworking of the so-called 'Seven Mountains Mandate' which encourages Christian leaders to 'occupy' positions in the key influential institutions of society, e.g., government, education, media, business.

My own personal take on how the Philippines reimagined what it means to hold together 'the separation of church and state' and respect for the distinctive role of religious traditions in the realm of governance goes by way of our cultural sensibility for being accommodative and hospitable. What I mean is that instead of going by the usual route of secularism (strictly relegating faith and religion within the confines of the private and the personal in most Western countries), what happened in the Philippines was that it permitted a kind of 'sari-sari store' approach: give religious expressions their own space in public. And so you will have prayers during government activities, the presidential State of the Nation for example, said by an imam, a Catholic priest, a Protestant bishop, an evangelical pastor, and even an INC minister.

The Philippines has stumbled upon its own unique way to avoid open theocracy on one hand and on the other strict secularism.

Kosuke Koyama, a Japanese theologian, once said, “People are not always interested in our Christology but from time to time they show an interest in our neighborology.” 

And there is a good reason for this. Love is Christianity’s revolutionary edge. For love in the Bible is not merely an article of the Hebrew Scriptures or a fundamental point of doctrine in the New Testament. Love is what Jesus showed as the defining character of those who will consider themselves as godly and even more so those who will call themselves as his disciples.

In fact, it is the one new thing that he himself called as authentically his. In John 13:34-35, he said, 

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” 

He makes it very clear that the love he likes us to practice will not be just any kind of love. This is to be a kind of love like his. A Jesus-kind of love. 

Pure but boundary-breaking. 

Sacrificial but life-giving.

The measure of this new love is not love for our own selves, which could be severely limited in so many ways. Furthermore, this new love makes love for one’s god unable to stand on its own.

We cannot love Jesus without loving those whom he loves. 

And by that definition, it means the people we will tend to neglect because they are our own, the people we will tend to ignore because they are not our own, and the people we will rather avoid because we are not their own. In Jesus’ own life, we saw this in action. In the way he loved Nicodemus, in the way he reached out to the Samaritan woman, and in the way he forgave those who nailed him in the cross.

He expects no less of us. And this is why faith in Jesus is not something that you can practice on your own. Faith in him means following him, and following him means loving people, even if they are unlovable, and to keep on loving even if we ourselves fall short of being lovable. 

We cannot say we love Jesus without living out the ‘love of Jesus.’

We can’t have theology without neighborology.

Apostle Paul in Romans 12:9-21 spelled out what this means for the followers of Christ in Rome.

9 Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. 10 Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves.11 Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. 12 Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.13 Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. 14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited. 17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 On the contrary: “If your enemy is hungry, feed him;     if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” 21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.

From within the context of the whole chapter, what he is saying is that they can’t conform any longer to the pattern of love that is rendered as the norm in the Empire of Rome (cf. verses 1-2). Rome was a conquering kind of love. To vanquish is their path to peace. Apostle Paul was arguing that followers of Jesus are to put into practice a kind of love that is the exact opposite. 

One that maintains a clear distinction between good and evil. One that is mindful of the needy in their midst. It is sincere, zealous, and ready for service.

It is love so different because it chooses to bless and not curse. It chooses to dare be identified with people with less and still yet not consider it a loss. It is love that values harmony over privilege.

Lastly, it is so starkly different that it turned vengeance on its head. When the urge to get even feels right, this love chooses the path of grace. By pitching its hope in the hands of God, it transforms the very notion of having an enemy.

Alan Kreider, in his book 'The Patient Ferment', wrote, "For the first three centuries the primary magnet of the Church was not their worship gatherings, their societal celebrities, their intellectual acumen, or even their evangelistic fervor. It was how they loved each other and their enemies."

The Roman Empire is no more. But the kind of love that it exemplified then remains at work to this very day. And so we hear echoes of a familiar cry, "to vanquish is the way to peace." A faith that conforms to this kind of love may claim to be Christian but it will not pass for being Christlike. It will be anti-Jesus. A dear Anabaptist friend asked me before, "hey, if it does not look like Jesus, how can we call it Christian?"

So, look no further. Burning cities and dying on the cross are antonyms in Apostle Paul’s day. They have opposite meanings. And so are dropping bombs and loving the Bible in our day. 

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:21)

This is the love of Jesus when put into practice.

This year, 2026, marks ten years of life together for me and Shane. A journey that kicked-off with a challenge of a 14-day wedding project.

The succeeding years were no more less daunting, as we constantly needed to brave a series of transitions from one season to the other. In time, we have become a family of four and we decided to celebrate the milestone in a special way in what has been called as the "land of beauty" (Ilha Formosa) -Taiwan. A beautiful place for a beautiful life that it has turned out for us.

In this post, we are sharing our experience as a family, first as our way of thanksgiving to the Lord who made it possible and secondly, as an encouragement to other young couples to keep on going amidst a world that so easily gives up when the going gets tough.

Top left: traveling with two kids is no joke, we survived with a stroller and a pair of foldable chairs. Top right: this is Yuna's first airplane ride, thankfully we didn't have a crying little lady all throughout the flight. The cabin crew must be happy.

For this trip, we are no longer the happy-go-lucky couple with a serendipitous itinerary. Foremost now in our consideration are the two kids -Yumi and Yuna. So we have to search for a place that is ranked highly not only for being child-friendly but also someplace that they will enjoy as much as we will as adults. Taiwan easily came on top of the list. For many reasons you'll discover later in the blog.

Even though, at first thought, it is but a small island, there are actually lots of things to do in Taiwan. But we decided not to explore everything and we stayed true to our guiding principle when traveling: not to butterfly-hop from one tourist attraction to another but instead to immerse deeply in a few places that resonate with our sensibility as a family.

Our itinerary moves in four clusters of adventure: a zoo day, a city culture day, an astronomy day, and a mountain day. We explored mostly Taipei, checking out its touristy destinations and also checking out some of the more hidden gems. Upper right: the famous tower of Taipei 101. Bottom right: Shifen Waterfall, so called Niagara of Taiwan.

Food. What we love about Taiwan is that the kids have no problem with its culinary offerings. Noodles for Yumi, xiao long bao for Shane, Taiwanese sausages for Yuna, and braised pork rice for me! Must try at the night markets are the colorful potato balls, radish cakes, and black pepper buns (we found the Michelin-awarded stall at the Raohe night market). We skipped the stinky tofu though. Maybe next time when the kids are not so picky anymore.

We avoided the tourist trap restaurants and brave the spots that locals frequent. We used the practical mark of Michelin-level cooking: ordinary Taiwanese, especially Gen-Zs, patiently enduring the long queues! Thanks to Google Translate and improvised sign-languages, we survived sorting out menus and placing orders.

Top center: in local spots, our bill will usually be only around 300-400 NTD per meal for the four of us. It will be the equivalent of just a bowl of noodles in most restos designed for tourists.

Bubble Tea. Taiwan is known for gifting the world with a fresh and fun way to enjoy tea. And true enough, at almost every corner, there will be tea shops and sightings of people carrying their favorite milk teas. My personal quest was to try one at the Oolong Tea Project -considered to be the equivalent of a popular single-origin cafe. Only that at stake are the variety and quality of tea leaves and also the science and art behind making good tapioca pearls. Spells the difference between bobba teas and bubble teas!

Between the popular Xing Fu Tang (priced at 120 NTD) and a local favorite with really long queues every night (only 50 NTD), the latter wins, not only in price but also in taste.

Moving around. As usual, Shane got a good command of the railways, cracking the code of Taipei Metro's train system. Yumi got an Easy Card while Shane and I used the unlimited Metro pass. Yuna happily rode everything for free.

We so love it that the city made it sure that it will be easy for PWDs, people with strollers, and even those with luggages to hop from one train to the next. There is even a dedicated space for families traveling together.

Bottom left: the famed combination of bronze ceiling and bamboo at the Taipei Main Station. We got lost one time and seeing the bamboos felt like finding a lighthouse amidst a tumultuous storm.

We also tried the Gondola at Maokong. We chose to ride the cable car called as the 'Crystal Cabin' which features a transparent (see through) glass floor. As the kids exclaimed, "the floor is nada!"

A day at the Asia's biggest zoo. From the pandas of China to giraffes of Kenya, Taipei's zoo features a wide range of attractions. The main areas are: the Penguin House, Bird World, African animals, Desert animals, Pangolin Dome, Children's Zoo, and Formosan Animal Area. It literally requires a whole day to see everything. But maybe not all things 'coz Yumi failed in her goal of spotting a capybara.

We saw two pandas in the Zoo -the mother (Yuan Yuan) and her child (Yuan Zai).

Escape to outer space. After spending a whole day with fauna and flora, we thought it would be good to have an entirely different vibe the next day. We decided to try the Astronomical Museum and fortunately we did coz it turned out to be the kiddos' most favorite. The great thing about it is that the installations are meant to be interactive, not just things to look and learn at but stuff to be played with and experienced. Also, it is surprisingly not so pricey, being a government service to young students.

Beside the space museum is the Taipei Children's Amusement Park but we skipped it due to lack of time and also because the rain started to drizzle.

Bottom right: An extra ticket will allow you to ride a spaceship that tours the Milky Way Galaxy with unexpected sightings of extraterrestrial beings.

Ascending the mountains. The northern part of Taiwan boasts of having a unique view of peaks and coasts. It is also the location of Jiufen and Shifen, famous for its old streets and railway. For this leg of our Taiwan trip, we decided to avail of a tour via Klook and save ourselves from the complex transfers of buses and trains. People usually go to Shifen on evenings to see flying lanterns lit in the skies but we followed the tip that Jiufen looks magical at night.

Top left: Rock formations at Yehliu Geopark. Top right and bottom left: enchanted old streets of Jiufen. Bottom right: the animation 'Spirited-Away' of Studio Ghibli took inspiration from the streets of Jiufen.

We released a family lantern along the old railway of Shifen, with prayers of good health for the years to come.

Further deep into the city. Since we chose to have our base in Ximending, we spent our final day exploring both its popular spots and its tucked-in secrets as well.

The famous Rainbow Crossing at the shopping district. Street art at Kunming Road. Red lanterns of a 300 year old temple. The bricks of the Red House. The vibrant street of Ximending.

Thank you for reading and for sharing in our joy. Hope we are able to help a bit in inspiring you to check-out our nearest neighbor and perhaps the origins of our indigenous ancestry.

It is very interesting that the artwork and patterns of Taiwan's indigenous people share a remarkable similarity to what we have in the Cordillera region. One theory has it that the aborigines from Taiwan traveled to the Philippines and to the rest of the islands in Southeast Asia. Collectively regarded as the Austronesian peoples -a magnificent group of seafarers- these ancients navigated the oceans all the way to Madagascar, way before the huge galleons of the Europeans reached their other side of the world.

-Rei, Shane, Yumi, & Yuna PS We got some additional tour tips for you after the pictures below.

Center: We made sure we pay our respect to the father of Taiwan by visiting the Chiang Kai-shek Memorial Hall.

Some tour hacks that may be handy: 1. You can use your credit card to ride the trains. Just tap and away you go. Usual fares for example, two stops will cost you only 20 NTD (equivalent to around Php 40). No need to get the unlimited pass if you won't be traveling so much at long distances using the Metro Train system. Using the Easy Card will allow you to ride both trains and buses. Should you decide to get the unli-pass, make sure to take a side-trip all the way to the hot springs of Beitou. 2. Have cash on hand (New Taiwan Dollar) if you decide to try out the local food as local stalls do not always accept card payments. ATM machines at the train stations tend dispense 1,000 NTD bills, if you need less, try the ones at 711.

3. Souvenirs are not necessarily cheap at the night markets. For example, T-shirts at Ximending and Raohe will cost you around 300-400 NTD which you can get for only 200 NTD at the stalls on the side of the Red House (but not inside the Red House for the stalls in there are artisan-level and will cost more, the quality though justifies the price).

4. Travel as you are able. The reality with having two (2) kids is that we move very slow in the morning. We are often able to leave the hotel at around 10-11am daily and so we generally plan for a pace of only a half-day itinerary. We did not stress ourselves so much that we are missing a lot of spots to check out.

For sure, it would have been great to explore the flower fields of Taichung, the Dome of Light at Kaohsiung, parks at Wulai, and the scenic train ride at Alishan. We just tell ourselves that missing all these spots gives us a reason for a possible return in the future. Because why not right?

We wish you blessing to your own trip and adventure in the beautiful island of Formosa. Have fun in Taiwan! ;)

The morning after kicks-off Easter's inauguration of New Creation and proceeds to that of its completion in the book of Revelation.

The operative word here is 'completion.' Glimpses and actual experiences New Creation are sprouting in bits and pieces. NOW. Not in some distant future, or that things will only get going once what some people call as the rapture finally occurs.

Starting with Jesus' rising from the tomb as a man fully alive, the Spirit has been at work renewing and transforming the old order that was. Not always straightforward, of course, setbacks occur, and at times with seemingly no sightings of change at all. But our confidence rests on the conviction that New Creation is ever coming, although not yet fully arriving, as one New Testament scholar puts it.*

Apostle Paul is more emphatic when he said, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!" (2 Corinthians 5:17, NIV)

Surely, it takes an eye of faith to see where life is thriving and discernment to realize where it is being suppressed and strangled.

The former is God's work, the latter, one can be sure, is that of the Enemy. As Jesus himself warned, "The Enemy comes to kill, steal, and destroy" (John 10:10). The choice before us is to live in the reality brought forth by Easter morning or remain in the ways of fallen creation.

But whenever God's people choose life, even for enemies, it is when they truly become Christlike, living in the power of that brought forth the resurrection. *Notes:

F. N. Souza (Indian, 1924–2002), Crucifixion, 1959. Oil on board, 183.1 × 122 cm. Some decolonial reflections on Christ's so-called seven last words...

1. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34) We live in a world shaped by systems that normalize oppression and injustice. Yet Jesus responds not with retaliation but with liberating mercy. Forgiveness here is not passive—it is resistance against hatred that dehumanizes. The real question is: How do we confront injustice without becoming unjust ourselves?

2. “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43) Grace breaks boundaries imposed by power and exclusion. Even a condemned man—discarded by the powers that be—is welcomed by Jesus. In a world still marked by inequality and colonial wounds, this reminds us: dignity is not something granted by systems but something affirmed by God. Redemption is not controlled—it is given, freely.

3. “Woman, behold your son… Behold your mother.” (John 19:26-27) At the foot of the cross, Jesus forms a new kind of family—one not defined by blood alone, but by solidarity. In a fractured, colonized consciousness that isolates and divides, this is a call to rebuild community rooted in care, responsibility, and shared struggle.

4. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34) This cry echoes the pain of a people who have known abandonment—by history, by systems, even by the structures of faith. Jesus enters that collective suffering. Faith, then, is not silence in pain, but the courage to name it, to lament, and to seek justice within it.

5. “I thirst.” (John 19:28) While Jesus thirsts for water, his deepest longing that kept him nailed at the cross is for a world made whole. He thirsts where there is poverty, exploitation, and erased identities. In a society still shaped by colonial values, this thirst calls us to recover what was taken—our dignity, our voice, our shared humanity.

6. “It is finished.” (John 19:30) Jesus completes a mission not of domination, but of liberation. His work confronts systems that oppress and restores what was broken. For us, this is a call not to passive faith, but to committed action—finishing the work of justice, healing, and transformation in our time.

7. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Luke 23:46) Jesus surrenders not in defeat, but in trust rooted in freedom. After confronting suffering and injustice, He entrusts everything to God. This is our invitation: to let go of fear shaped by oppression, and to rest in a faith that empowers us to live—and struggle—with hope.

We so often hear people say "methods may change but the message remains the same." However, a careful study of the book of Acts, the proclamation of Apostle Paul in particular, will show that he crafts and shapes his message depending on the people he is trying to engage.

His audience determined his message. To the Jews in Thessalonica, he talks about the Old Testament and the promised Messiah (Acts 17:1-4). But when addressing the Greeks, he talks about the philosophical themes that animate their thinking, citing poets and even a line from a Hymn to Zeus! (v. 28)

For the people of Athens, his speech revolves around the origin of humanity, their assigned lot in the world, and a moral reckoning for all. Themes that are staple issues of living within an Empire taking pride in its superior justice system. While there is a hint to the concept of the resurrection at his concluding remarks, a novel idea that proved to be a point of interest to the Greeks, which earned him an audience at the Areopagus, isn't it interesting that Paul withheld a direct mention of the name Jesus? Instead he pointed the attention of his Athenian audience to an 'Unknown God' in their pantheon of deities.

So what am I saying?

Paul knew his audience and he not only used the appropriate method but also crafted a message that will be relevant for them.

I got reasons to believe that he knew his communication theory well. In communication studies, there's much discussion on how "meanings are in people, not in words." And so this means, good communication starts with where people are, the linguistic universe by which they understand themselves and the world around them. From this perspective, messages are meant to be crafted not merely translated.

One may ask, "But the gospel is not supposed to conform to culture, right?" Well, the narrative of the book of Acts tells quite the opposite. The watershed moment at the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15 is all about the Apostles giving the new Christian communities in the non-Jewish world the freedom as well as the tough task of figuring out how the Gospel will look and sound like when it crosses the wineskins of Jewish religion to that of the worldview, culture, religions, and sensibility of the Greco-Roman world. Of course, the Gospel has the power to change cultures. But it does so by embedding itself into the DNA of a people and from deep within weaves its magic similar to how a yeast does its work to a dough.

A very poignant indicator of this embedding process is the shift in language employed by Paul in his epistles to the different cities of the Mediterranean. From proclaiming a 'Messiah' (a term with currency only within the Jewish community), he shifted to announcing a new 'Lord of the world' (as a counter to Empire's lord -Caesar). 

The imagery for example he used in II Thessalonians 4:16-17 summons people's recollection of Caesar's triumphal return to their city (aka the 'Royal Parousia') with everyone coming out to meet with him. Very clearly, his readers will recognize that Paul is re-coding the imagery with a new meaning. No wonder, in Acts 17, the people of Rome realized the seditious political implication: the early Christians, who are supposed to be loyal citizens of Rome, have given their allegiance "to another king, one called Jesus" (v. 7). 

From a Jewish 'messianic claim' to a subversive political statement, Apostle Paul is reconfiguring a Gospel message for the subjects of the Roman Emperor.

To me, this is one of the very strong indicators of how the Gospel 'incarnates' from within the contours of a culture in order to engage deeply the core structures of people's thought, belief, and practice. Prof. Andrew Walls calls this phenomenon as the Gospel's "infinite translatability" wherein it makes possible to create "a place to feel at home."* And this particularity need not at all be scandalous. When Jesus became man, he entered a specific culture, grew up in it and learned it. Not only that he became a man, he became a Jew. While at the same time, he also transcended the customary ways of being one. This is the double-edged dimension of the incarnation.

Some 'decolonial' rejoinders to Michael Bird's article is in order. The need to compose 'creeds' can indeed be traced to the early church, cf., Phil. 2:6-11 and I Cor. 15:3-4. Still yet, it has to be said that to 'impose' a particular creedal formulation for all people, at all times, and at all places, is another matter.

Put it in another way, the issue is not contextual theologizing vs creedal theology but how to situate creedal theology within the wider ambit of contextual theologizing. (Note that versions of systematic theology are in itself constructed from within a particular context and therefore very much in itself a form of contextual theology).

A good observation has it that the church is often almost always forced to articulate something when it is pressed by a particular question or issue that arises as its people engages with other people around them.

In a way, context is the mother of theological formulation and its resulting creedal articulation.

The Nicene Creed is a great example of how very specific questions that developed from within the logic of Greek philosophy has been responded to by utilizing the resources of Greek philosophy in order to make sense and communicate the truths of Scripture. Thus, the situational nature of theologizing has to be seriously considered. Rene Padilla, a theologian from Ecuador, aptly put it when he said, "theology cannot be reduced to the repetition of doctrinal formulations borrowed from other latitudes." To him, the "validity and appropriateness" of any theology are conditioned on the merging of the "horizons of the historical situation" and the "horizons of the text" being read by God's people.*

End of the day, the more pressing question will have to do with how a certain creedal formula that was developed in a particular period of history resonates with another people, from another time, and with another context. Today's globalizing church has yet to figure out how to move from the imperial, hegemonic, and totalizing mold of Christendom theologizing into the emerging reality of the church becoming a truly global community again with different wellsprings of thought and practice... Perhaps, a good start is to consider how 'creed making' has been appropriated by indigenous Christian communities to try to make sense of their faith within the worldview of their people. Consider the Masai Creed below:

A good reminder from Jaroslav Pelikan,

"Wherever the message is preached and brought in whatever language it comes from, the language it comes to and the culture into which it penetrates must, at some stage of its maturation, learn to answer yet again the question: 'Who do you say that I am?' Because the 'you say' in that question is the culture in which we live. He’s not asking, 'Who does the fourth century say that I am?' when it was writing in Greek. That’s important, because without that we wouldn’t be where we are. But, at some point, you have to be who and what you are in the only culture in which you’re ever going to live, the only century in which you’re going to live and die, and, in that century, you have to answer with whatever linguistic and philosophical equipment you have, you have to answer the question: 'Who do you say that I am?'

-Rei Lemuel Crizaldo (February 14, 2026)

"Chances are you have already heard something about who anarchists are and what they are supposed to believe. Chances are almost everything you have heard is nonsense.

Many people seem to think that anarchists are proponents of violence, chaos, and destruction, that they are against all forms of order and organization, or that they are crazed nihilists who just want to blow everything up. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth.

Anarchists are simply people who believe human beings are capable of behaving in a reasonable fashion without having to be forced to. It is really a very simple notion. But it’s one that the rich and powerful have always found extremely dangerous.

At their very simplest, anarchist beliefs turn on two elementary assumptions.

🎯 The first is that human beings are, under ordinary circumstances, about as reasonable and decent as they are allowed to be, and can organize themselves and their communities without needing to be told how.

🎯 The second is that power corrupts. Most of all, anarchism is just a matter of having the courage to take the simple principles of common decency that we all live by, and to follow them through to their logical conclusions.

Odd though this may seem, in most important ways you are probably already an anarchist—you just don’t realize it.

Let’s start by taking a few examples from everyday life.

☝️ If there’s a line to get on a crowded bus, do you wait your turn and refrain from elbowing your way past others even in the absence of police?

If you answered “yes,” then you are used to acting like an anarchist! The most basic anarchist principle is self-organization: the assumption that human beings do not need to be threatened with prosecution in order to be able to come to reasonable understandings with one another, or to treat one another with dignity and respect.

Everyone believes they are capable of behaving reasonably themselves. If they think laws and police are necessary, it is only because they don’t believe that other people are. But if you think about it, don’t those people all feel exactly the same way about you? Anarchists argue that almost all the antisocial behavior which makes us think it’s necessary to have armies, police, prisons, and governments to control our lives is actually caused by the systematic inequalities and injustice those armies, police, prisons, and governments make possible. It’s all a vicious circle.

If people are used to being treated like their opinions do not matter, they are likely to become angry and cynical, even violent—which of course makes it easy for those in power to say that their opinions do not matter. Once they understand that their opinions really do matter just as much as anyone else’s, they tend to become remarkably understanding.

To cut a long story short: anarchists believe that for the most part it is power itself, and the effects of power, that make people stupid and irresponsible."

It is getting usual nowadays to read about works in local/indigenous theologies being undertaken so that voices from the margins or the underside will be heard. Yay!

But the question has to be asked: be heard by whom and be heard where?

If the point of doing such works is so that, for example, Majority World voices can be 'heard' and therefore included in the conversations going on in the West, in a way, a happy and blessed addition, then whose interest really is being served? Who is benefiting from such gestures of 'inclusion'? Who is being incorporated into 'what'? At the end of the day, it has to be asked: whose body of knowledge is getting enriched, broadened, and strengthened? And what arrangement/s of the theological status quo are getting reinforced and further taken to be good for everyone, everywhere?

These questions are missed (or lost, drowned) especially when the concern described above gets framed in and within the terms of the fancy word 'global', e.g., global conversations, global table, global theology, etc. But what exactly is 'global'? Where is this 'global'? And most important of all, who is gatekeeping, posturing to be the 'right' point of reference, of this so-called 'global'?

My own personal experience tells me that not a few of these so-called 'global' are more or less operating (still) with the logic of what can only be properly described as 'colonial.'

Emerging are projects this and that with the aim of incorporating non-Western voices into something so that it would appeal more to non-Western voices and therefore expand relevance and ultimately, reach across the globe. Unwittingly, not a few folks from the Majority World end up contributing to the tragic re/construction of the apparatus that upholds the old colonial impulse within the field of theology.

Fortunately, there are some efforts in the Western world to rethink what ‘global’ means from their side of the fence. Usually coming from folks whose social location may be in the West but whose imagination and sensibility transcends geographical belonging. My guess is that this may, more and more, take the shape of an 'insider conversation' -for those reared in the dynamics of Western civilization/Christianity to figure out among themselves on how to re-engage better with the 'rest of the world.' My hope is they will be the one who can help arrest the re-emergence of what has been called as the 'colonially of faith.'*

For those in the Majority World, the 'insider conversation' that might be worth trying is to get folks from within the non-Western contextSSS (yes it has to be in the plural) to hear each other, be able to listen and understand each other, learn to talk to each and in the process also learn from each other, and hopefully, discover options along the way, on how to strengthen not only each other’s sense of belonging, but also a collective resolve towards what may be contributed elsewhere…

Smaller insider conversations as alternative to the massive gatherings that sadly ends up with imperial feels...

Last year, there is one gathering that sought to do something very close to this. I hope there will be more of such spaces this year...

On how these different spaces will converge is an altogether another question. Hopefully, we will not repeat what was wrought at Nicaea. And Chalcedon, later on.

-Rants by Rei Lemuel Crizaldo (January 30, 2026)

This year, 2026, opened with the good news of our book on political theology finally coming out!

I attempted in my chapter to articulate a decolonial perspective, wherein, for the first time, I commit into writing what I think can be called as 'gastronomic theology'. My hope is that this will encourage more people to explore alternative epistemic footing to doing local theology.

Writing this chapter also allowed me to challenge myself on doing something about the disappointment I often feel when reading works in so-called contextual theology but only to find the bibliography thoroughly an inventory of the Western knowledge industry. I tried to avoid this irony by making sure my bibliography will be faithful to what I wrote -more than 95% of the works I cited are written by fellow Filipinos.

Edited by Dr. David Lim and Dr. Aldrin Penamora, the volume captures a broad range of how evangelicals are deepening their engagement in the political sphere, its systems and structures, with the hopes of experiencing a more just society and the least of the people living with dignity.

Much gratitude to Langham Publishing for their commitment and relentless pursuit of publishing voices from the Majority World and get their reflections accessible across the globe. They continue to offer free shipping of their books to anywhere in the Majority World. Orders can be placed here.

Read the endorsements below by Dr Ruth Padilla DeBorst, Dr Sebastian Kim, and Bp. Hwa Yung.

Not a few people identify the Gospel with the cross and the Lenten season. But we must not forget that the Christmas season speaks of the Gospel as well.

The prophecy in Isaiah 9:6-7 has the following lines:

"For a child has been born—for us! the gift of a son—for us! He’ll take over the running of the world. His names will be: Amazing Counselor, Strong God, Eternal Father, Prince of Wholeness. His ruling authority will grow, and there’ll be no limits to the wholeness he brings." -Isaiah 9:6-7, The Message

This is the 'good news' that animated Joseph and Mary, the angels and the shepherds, Herod and the wisemen from the East, during the very first Christmas. Somehow, for these cast of characters, the Gospel is very much a political message as it is a spiritual one. A new king has come and born in Bethlehem's town.

But a king born in humility and poverty flips the script of power and privilege on its head. He comes as bad news to the empire then and still is a biting critique to the empires of today. And yet, for the outcasts, the repressed, and people trampled upon, his birth sparks hope. A Gospel much-awaited and finally fulfilled!

To preach the wholeness of the Gospel, one has to start at the manger.

In the words of NT Wright, there is much wisdom in putting atonement theology within the ambit of political theology, and not the other way around. And so to say that the Gospel has political implications, as most apolitical theologies forged in the West put it, is to skew the good news altogether. This is because the Gospel, in itself, is a political statement: the newborn king is God's 'No' to all the emperors and rulers playing god in our world.

Jesus was born as a king and he was put to death with a signage above his head in three languages that indeed he was one!

Fortunately, every Christmas season, we are given the opportunity to adjust our hearing of the Gospel and recover its radical political edge: God did not just give us a Savior from sin, He has also given us a King.

And what does this mean?

The often forgotten and missed stanza of the old carol, 'Oh Holy Night', captures well the promise of the Gospel cradled in the manger:

Chains shall He break, for the slave is our brother, and in His name all oppression shall cease. Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, let all within us praise His holy name. Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!

A king who shall put to right all things.

Truly, a Gospel like no other.

“The Birth of Jesus Christ” (1950s) Woonbo Kim Kichang, South Korea

I always look forward to developing the curriculum for our church's Simbang Gabi (aka Misa de Gallo) -nine consecutive evening worship services held to celebrate the Advent season from the 16th to the 24th of December.

I personally believe that while having its historical roots in the Roman Catholic tradition, it is a Pinoy cultural heritage that evangelicals in the Philippines might find really helpful. This is considering how consumerism and materialism has pervaded modern Christmas festivities. For churches, the challenge really has been how to re-center things in the so-called original "reason for the season" when Santa, the reindeers, snowmen, and otherwise foreign symbolisms have already taken center stage. For Pinoy evangelicals, the recovery (and rediscovery) of the revered religious tradition, provides a most perfect space for this task.

What better way to do this re-centering mission than to call back people into a deep dive of the narrative of Jesus' birth and explore what the seemingly uneventful 'holy night' could have meant for the cast of characters of the very first Christmas, and at the same time, ask why this is a treasured story worth passing on to the next generation.

Pagan astrologers, stinky shepherds, aging prophets, madmen rulers, and clueless newly weds. What was the good news for them then? And why it still matters for us now?

As our local church inches our way to the ninth service, I just pray that whatever it is we're doing together as a faith community, the joyous things in it will be sketched in the memories of the children joining us every evening. I hope they will continue this Pinoy tradition alive when their turn come and infuse it with fresh spirit.

I'm so convinced of the deep genius in the Simbang Gabi. This year, I heard it is even making churches in the Middle East come alive with Filipinos filling up the pews. Away from their families but brought together as one people in a foreign land through a shared spiritual devotion. Elsewhere, in the homeland, if just for the hearty servings of 'puto bumbong' and 'bibingka' with friends and family, there's no doubt that the Simbang Gabi can bring everyone together, even for a while, and make our fractured and fragmented country realize, for a fleeting moment, that we are a kind of people that are happier and stronger together.*

For me, this message of reconciliation is one facet of the Gospel so beautifully expressed not only through the usual imagery of a bloody cross but also, and perhaps, even more wonderfully, in the portrait of a manger that speaks forth the 'good news': Emmanuel!

He is with us.

If God can choose to be so, why can't we also be with the so-called 'others' in our lives?

"May we not wait for our neighbors to be good before we do good to them, for the Church to be perfect before we love her, for others to respect us before we serve them." -Pope Francis

A blessed Christmas to us all!

Jampacked crowd at a nearby chapel near our church in Bulacan.

-Simbang Gabi reflections by Rei Lemuel Crizaldo (December 23, 2025) *Notes: For a backgrounder on why this angle of the Gospel matters most especially for the Philippines today, the Christmas reflection below, written for INFEMIT by my good friend P. Ian de Ocampo, provides a quick snapshot.

Our world has gone broken and its people sad, bad, and mad beyond recognition.

But there is a kind of God who refused to abandon things as it is and chose instead to do something about it. And to stubbornly keep on doing something about it.

Relentlessly, in repeated and various tries. Against all odds.

Until, finally, in sending his only child right at the center of such a grim and ruthless mess, he got to remind the world, in the clearest way possible, of how life could look like if restored to wholeness and renewed for the better.

An outcast leper getting attention.

A hated tax collector receiving an invitation.

A master teacher learning to be clueless again.

A man born blind healed and forgiven.

A guilty lawbreaker escaping mob condemnation.

A grieving sister consoled with unimaginable resurrection.

A dying criminal promised of a next life in paradise.

A traitor being taken-in again and entrusted with a mission.

A bloodsoaked hill for the damned turned into a mount of hope.

Good news for the lost causes. The wrecked and the ruined. The drop-outs and the kick-outs. The failures and the fools.

From a father who refuses to give-up. Through a brother who embraces the prodigal other.

Still a message our world needs to hear.

A 'gospel' waiting to be tossed and cause a stir.

"It’s news I’m most proud to proclaim, this extraordinary message of God’s powerful plan to rescue everyone who trusts him, starting with Jews and then right on to everyone else! God’s way of putting people right shows up in the acts of faith, confirming what Scripture has said all along: 'The person in right standing before God by trusting him really lives.'" -Romans 1:16-17 (The Message)